


everything he does betrays the ideals of our nation

by kirayukikira



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, a Bad sjw, ham is a sjw, idk ill add stuff later, this is def gonna end in hatesex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2015-12-02
Packaged: 2018-05-04 12:15:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5333750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirayukikira/pseuds/kirayukikira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’d been filing papers when Jefferson entered the office, and God, the moment Hamilton lay eyes on him, he knew this man would be trouble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everything he does betrays the ideals of our nation

**Author's Note:**

> lmao this kinda sucks thx 4 stickin w me tho also i hate tenses the english language can go fuck itself but if u see mistakes lmk so i can change them im too tired to edit this garbage
> 
>  
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> thxx to logan 4 helpin me edit

The first time Alexander Hamilton met Thomas Jefferson it was Tuesday. It was only a Tuesday, and he was already fucking pissed off. Normally, he could deal with the rich, entitled assholes who occasionally strolled through the law firm he interned at - like Samuel Seabury last year - but _jesus fucking christ_ this prick was something else.

He’d been filing papers when Jefferson entered the office, and God, the moment Hamilton lay eyes on him, he knew this man would be trouble. He’d swaggered - yes, _swaggered_ \- into the office, clad in what had to be the most ridiculous suit Hamilton had ever seen. It was hideous, a three-piece completely covered in some pink floral pattern, and for christ’s sake, it was velvet, who even used velvet anymore? And the thing probably cost more than Hamilton’s entire net worth. Why anyone would spend that much money on something that hideous baffled Hamilton completely. What annoyed him the most about the whole thing was how good the asshole looked in the outfit; it had to have been custom tailored, the way the velvet fabric clung to the man’s thighs was simply not achievable with a store bought suit. His deep green shirt rested underneath the vest - who wore green and pink anyways? - and it stretched taut against his chest, subtly outlining his defined pectoral muscles. His hair, a wild, curly mane, hung down perfectly by his face, and the man’s beard was so fucking impeccable Hamilton would have thought it was fake. Why were rich assholes allowed to look _good_ , he asked the universe, but the universe didn’t answer.

 

“Thomas Jefferson,” the man drawled - literally fucking _drawled_ , his distinctly southern syllables seemed to drag along from the tip of his tongue to his teeth - sauntering up to the front desk. “I have an appointment?”

 

“Just a minute,” the secretary, Lafayette, said, after a moment of typing on their laptop. “Mr. Washington is in a meeting right now, why don’t you have a seat?”

 

Jefferson nodded. “Thank you, sir,” he said, walking over to a seat.

 

Lafayette coughed quietly, and Jefferson turned around, raising one perfect eyebrow expectantly. “Yes?” he drawled, turning back to face Lafayette.

“Actually, Mr. Jefferson, I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me sir, seeing as I’m not a man.” Lafayette replied kindly. Jefferson scoffed quietly.

Hamilton just about lost his shit right there, because, in addition to scoffing, he could have sworn Jefferson rolled his fucking eyes. Hamilton  stayed calm, though; last time he’d yelled at some transphobic asshole from old money or big money or any other kind of money, he’d ended up in the middle of a big lawsuit, and he really wasn’t ready to be fired from Washington and Associates, which Mr. Washington had warned him would happen if he got into another scandal. Besides, maybe he’d misjudged the man’s reaction; Hamilton had never been good at reading other people anyways.

“What does that even mean, you’re not a man? You look like one.” Jefferson turned around completely now, and was facing Lafayette, who had looked entirely uncomfortable, head-on.

Hamilton just about dropped the file he was holding. Who did this asshole think he was, the _Gender Police_? Was he gonna go around and just police everyone’s gender? 

“Well, I identify outside of the gender binary - I am non-binary, as they say. I prefer to use they/them pronouns, and gender expression isn’t equal to gender identity, Mr. Jefferson.” Lafayette’s french accent thickened, as it tended to do when they were agitated. “And I would prefer it, Mr. Jefferson, if you would not refer to me as sir. I do not mean to offend you, but it makes me very uncomfortable.”

Jefferson shrugged and turned back to his seat. “Whatever,” he said. “All that gender stuff seems like bullshit anyways.”

If you’d had a tape and paused it right there, you could have pinpointed the exact millisecond when Hamilton _fucking_. Lost. It.

“Excuse me??” he proclaimed indignantly, in the same tone of voice as when he had called out bigots hundreds of times before. Jefferson stood up as Hamilton made his way down to the front of the office. A few people turned their heads to watch Hamilton marching his small self down to the front of the office; John, one of his fellow interns, shook his head and murmured a ‘Ayy Dios’ under his breath.

 

“Alex, please, this is so unnecessary. I do not need another scandal,” Lafayette called out as Hamilton huffed his way past their desk, and continuied on to where Jefferson stood, and holy shit, the dude was _tall,_ and his suit was way too tight tight, and Alexander Hamilton was just too fucking bisexual for rich assholes to be this _hot_.

“You’re excused,” Jefferson said as he smiled cattily down at Hamilton. Hamilton, ever indignant, glared back up at him.

“Listen, prick. Just because you’re rich and entitled and a nuisance to society doesn’t give you the right to not only misgender, which is acceptable sometimes if it’s an accident, but also invalidate the gender of my friend over here. Their gender identity is valid and I don’t give a hot gay fuck how much money you have, you still don’t get to be fucking rude about it, you cis-het, transphobic piece of garbage!!!” Hamilton breathed heavily as he stared up at Jefferson, waiting for some kind of response.

The only response Jefferson had given was a smirk - a fucking _smirk_ , of all things, and of course he had to look _good_ while smirking, because the universe hated Hamilton - before he promptly sat down in his chair. He spread his long, velvet-clad legs out on either side of Hamilton, and pulled out his phone.

“Do you hear me?? Can you wrap your fu-” Hamilton started, but was cut off when Lafayette loudly exclaimed, “Mr. Washington! You have a client waiting for you in the front!” as if to tell Hamilton, ‘Aah would you look at that it’s your boss coming!! Looks like you better get your act together before he throws your sorry ass on the streets.’ Hamilton, for once in his life, actually heeded their warning, and shut up as Washington strolled languidly to the front of the office.

“Mr. Jefferson!” he exclaimed, leading his two-o’clock appointment out the door. “A pleasure to see you again.” Washington took a beat to look curiously at Hamilton, who was still standing between Jefferson’s legs. “I see you’ve met Alexander. I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble, you remember how spirited the younger ones can get.” Hamilton resisted the urge to cough, instead he only attempted to smile politely at Jefferson, who - again - fucking _smirked_ at Hamilton and pocketed his phone, not for one second breaking eye contact with Hamilton.

“I’m not sure how much trouble someone of his stature could ever give me, sir,” Jefferson replied as he stood up, all the while looking down at Alex, who, miraculously, seemed at a loss for words, save for a small scoff that had slipped out after Jefferson’s obnoxious jab at Hamilton’s height. The gleam in Jefferson’s eye, the small smirk that draped across his lips could not have been anymore unbearable - god, if Washington hadn’t been there, Hamilton would have literally slapped him - short stature be damned.

“Shall we?” Washington said, gesturing to his office down the hall.

“Lovely to make your acquaintance, Alexander,” Jefferson had said as he stepped past the smaller man. “If you ever want to … talk,” his eyes drifted up and down Hamilton’s lean body. “I’m sure you’ll find me. Until we meet again.” And he had left then, following Washington into his office without a second glance.

Yes, Hamilton definitely hated him. Hatred was, of course, the most accurate term for the stirring sensation in his gut that that awful, wealthy, horribly attractive man brought about. Hatred.

Hamilton wondered if Lafayette would give him Jefferson’s number.

 

**Author's Note:**

> will i ever update this ?? will i ever update anything ?? probably not
> 
> also yeah ik ham is way overreactin to tjeffs comment but imo modern ham is the most ridiculously hot-headed sjw ever so.. evn if its a Minor Situation, hams gonna take it personally n Blow Up


End file.
